


The End

by KazimaKuwabara



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6054901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KazimaKuwabara/pseuds/KazimaKuwabara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The human faces one last battle, one final task where they must try and stay determined. For this final battle, they call out to Sans for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this story is going with the thought that Sans, Papyrus, and Toriel are Boss Monsters. I know for sure Asgore and Toriel were, but I liked the thought that Sans and Papyrus are also Boss monsters. My first undertale story so i hope you like it.

Sans gripped his knees hard as he kept his eyes glued to the floor. His hands shook anytime he relaxed, so he was forced to sit still and stiff, gripping his kneecaps like his life depended on it. He didn't want to acknowledge the little quiver of his hands. The shake of his hands just reminded him what was happening, and if he could sit still, he didn't have to think about it.

The sound of a suppressed sob made Sans flinch, and close his eyes.

Sans was sitting on an old couch for two, though currently five monsters were all squashed together on it. In fact the little room he was waiting so tensely in was filled with monsters and humans of varying ages. Despite how packed the room was, and the age of some of the younger members, for the most part the room was very quiet. Really the only noise was coming from the skeleton on Sans' left side.

Taking a small steadying breath Sans reached out, and gripped Papyrus’ knee, offering a small measure of comfort to his softly sobbing brother.

Papyrus sniffled loudly, and with a 'clack' dropped his head on to his brother's, nuzzling their skulls together, seeking what comfort he could get.

Sans brought his hand to his brother's back and held him close, unable to come up with a joke that might make Papyrus smile...or angry. But then again it was hard to make any joke in these circumstances.

For longer than Sans could imagine, and quicker than he would remember, Toriel exited a closed off room. Her face was tired, and her soft white fur seemed gray and dulled. Her nose was red, and the corners of her mouth were turned down in a bitter frown.

Sans rose, gently-ever so gently-removing himself from Papyrus, so that he could approach his wife.

"Tori..." Sans began, reaching out for her hand. She reached back, their hands locking together, their golden wedding bands softly clinking as they came in contact.

Sans found he had no words, and instead stared transfixed at their laced hands, and the bands on their fingers. Wearing wedding bands was a human tradition that Sans and Toriel had become quite fond of...especially Sans. It was nice to see physical evidence of his and Toriel's relationship. It was a comfort every day to see the band of gold on his hand.

"They are not...long for this world..." Toriel finally whispered, her voice watery and soft. She sniffed, before looking down at Sans with dewy remorseful eyes, "Frisk wants to speak with everyone...however they requested you come to them last..."

Sans swallowed unsure of how to take Toriel's words. Why last? Did Frisk have something important they needed to say? At...at the very end? Did they not want to see him? Why Last? Why? Why? **_Why?_**

"That's...that's fine. The kid knows how to save the best for last!" Sans smiled, and shrugged, trying to play it casual.

Toriel offered him a grave smile, leaned forward, kissed his skull, and then shifted past her lover to wave Frisk's friends, and extended family inside.

Sans went back and sat down with his brother. Papyrus reached for him first this time, took his brother's hand in his own, and held it tight. Papyrus said nothing, but didn't need to-his mere presence was comfort enough. Sans closed his eyes, and took in another steadying breath, "Thank you Papyrus..."

"I-I will always be here to give you a supporting hand brother," Papyrus assured weakly.

"...You don't have ta do that...I got two of my own after all."

Papyrus let out a weak sigh of annoyance, and scooted closer to Sans, resting his jaw on top of Sans' skull, "Really brother..."

"Yeah...I know. I've had better jokes..." Sans opened his eyes, watching as people and monsters began to shuffle in and out of Frisk's room, _'I've had better days too...'_ he finished his thoughts quietly to himself. No need to point out the obvious in this situation.

It was late, when Toriel carried out Ariel, the youngest of Frisk's grandchildren. The little girl was sobbing on Toriel's shoulder, aware of the fact something was wrong, but not fully comprehending why everyone was so sad. Toriel kissed her great-granddaughter's head, shushing the child gently as she ran a hand down the weeping girl's back. She didn't look much like Frisk...but there was something about her patient and sweet nature that made Sans think of Frisk.

Toriel met Sans' eye, and the skeleton took in a deep breath, and nodded.

His turn.

Getting to his feet, he stuffed his trembling hands inside his gray hoodie. It wasn't as comfortable as his favored blue hoodie, but this one had been a gift from Frisk when they had been twenty-two. The back was bedazzled with blue sequins that read: "Hella bad and rad skella-Dad." Without a doubt, this had to be one of the best gifts he'd ever been given.

Slowly walking to the door, Sans raised his hand to his wooden barrier between him and Frisk, and knocked.

"Knock knock..." Sans added loudly after rapping on the door.

"Who's there?" A tiny frail voice answered from within the room. There had been no hesitation, as if they had been expecting for things to go this way.

Sans reasoned that after all these years, they probably had.

"O-olive..." Sans said voice a little unsteady.

"Olive who?"

"Olive you...kid," Sans pressed his skull to the door, his hand on the door knob.

"Sans...come in," Frisk eventually commanded.

Sans opened the door, and carefully shut it behind him. This room had once belonged to Frisk, when they had been a child. When Frisk moved out, it became a guest room...and when Frisk got too old to care for themself, Frisk moved back in. So in a way...it was still Frisks' room...it was really just Frisk who was different now.

Laying propped up with pillows, and blankets was very old human. Their hair was wispy and white stopping just at their chin, and their skin sagged with the great age they had acquired. They had been tenderly tucked into the mountain of pillows and blankets, and looked as small as the child they once had been. A smile graced Frisk's weathered face, and their hands were folded patiently on their stomach, their thumbs tapping absently. Their hands had become rather bony, and were exceedingly lovely as Papyrus would put it. "Oh human just look at your lovely hands! They are a lot like the Great Papyrus' hands and his lazy bones of a brother's hands! You'll be a skeleton yourself one day if you keep trying," Papyrus used to proclaim every time he looked at Frisk's aging hands.

Frisk never told Papyrus he was correct in a way.

"Olive you too, Dunkle Sans..." Frisk's tired old voice interrupted Sans' thoughts.

San smiled, proud of his combination title of father and uncle.

Taking the empty seat next to Frisk's bed, Sans reached out and took a hold of his long time friend and beloved child's aged hand.

"You...You wanted to see me?"

Frisk nodded, their head bobbing briefly into their chest. Sans smiled at the familiar action. Where had the time gone? Time had gone on and on, and on...and Sans could hardly remember the resets from before. From when Frisk was a child. There had been...so many times...so many different paths, so many different journeys. And then one day they were at the end...and Frisk never reset again. Never. Life had been so blissful-no perfect...but still wonderful. At least until now.

"Yes," Frisk answered voice wheezy, and soft, "Yes. There's something I must do...and...and I knew you needed to be the last thing I saw...so that I could stay...determined."

Sans gripped Frisk's hand tighter, his shoulders trembling.

He looked into his child's face, searching for what Frisk could be talking about, "What...What do ya mean, kiddo?"

Frisk settled more comfortably into the bed, and took a deep breath, "When I first met everyone I was so happy... I can't describe how much fun I had on our first meeting. Again, and again, and again I wanted to relive our times together. Like a child...like the child that I was...I played with the Resets-"

Sans flinched.

"And learned more and more about all of you. Every mistake, every new discovery...led me to something wonderful new about all of you. But...I noticed...you...seemed to get...sadder and... sadder." Frisk squeezed Sans' hand gently, "I loved you...but you were so sad. In my ignorance...I didn't understand. It took me three-hundred and ninety-three resets to realize what it was that was...troubling you. That it was... It was me-"

"No! No Frisk-"

"Shhh," Frisk hushed Sans' outburst soothingly, "Yes. Yes it was me. Or...what I was doing. You...unlike everyone else remembered everything. Maybe not as completely as me, but you remembered enough. Pieces of every reset, ever major decision... you remembered every life...even when I...gave into....C..chara."

Sans closed his eyes, repressing the flood of memories. He felt his bones rattle as a shiver ran through him, and an old wound ached in his chest. He tried to beat the painful memories away with the good memories he had made, the ones he had treasured...but the past was strong, and unrelenting. Only once had he faced Chara...and then Frisk was back. A hundred times over he was with Frisk...his time with Frisk surely outweighed any time with Chara?

A flash of his brother's scarf sitting in the snow made Sans want to vomit.

He was trembling, when Frisk's frail hand came to rest upon his skull. He opened his eyes, and saw them smiling at him, even as tears spread down their old face.

"Frisk..."

"I made a lot of mistakes...and you knew them all. Maybe not my reasons...but you knew all my missteps...but were always kind to me. Always welcomed me. Maybe you were sad...but you...you never tried to hurt me or stop me when it came to my choices. When I figured it out that you...remembered everything...everything...it occurred to me how stagnate you must be feeling. That we would always be stuck in the same moment of life, and never move on. So I decided to stop resetting...and while trying to figure out what more I could do to help you...I finally realized. If I really wanted to help...wanted to make things better-I needed to stop resetting forever. I needed to son on living, so you could live."

Sans was sobbing now, and his hands clung tightly to Frisk's hand. Frisk's free hand gently pat the vertical plate of his skull as they tried consoling him.

"So I stopped...and I've had a wonderful life. I grew up. I fell in love. I had children, and grandchildren...my life has been blessed," Frisk sighed, voice sounding tired, "but now I'm at the end...and there's one final thing for me to do."

"Wh-what is...what is that?" Sans choked, a glowing eye looking to Frisk for answers.

"Die," Frisk whispered in a firm finality.

Sans broke down into a fresh wave of sobs.

"So close to the end...I want to reset. I want to do this all over again and be with you all...again and again. That's why I need you here. If you're with me...I can remember why I can't do that. Why I must not. If you're here with me at the end...I'll be able to stay determined."

"No Frisk!" Sans broke, "No...no...you can reset Frisk! Just...just reset!" His voice sounded small even to him.

Frisk sighed, sounding youthful and grateful, "No. No. It's not right. We've all earned the happiness and experiences we have...and I've had a lot of time to play. Now it's time for me to rest, to come inside from play and go...to sleep."

"Frisk....Friskkkk-" Sans moaned pitifully.

"And if you're here I'll be able to do it. I'll stay determined. Because...I want you to never have to worry about another reset again. Never."

"Frisk!" Sans choked, rising from his chair and embracing the old little body tightly, "Please...please...don't do this for me."

"I love you Sans. I'm not trying to do this to you to hurt you...but Sans. You know whats right...and you know what's wrong. Life shouldn't be played over and over...it should be cherished. It's supposed to be fleeting so we don't get bored...so that we don't stop feeling...like Flowey who was born unable to feel. We are so lucky to have the choice to feel... Things are supposed to eventually end or they turn bad. But thank you Sans. Thank you for telling me I could reset... I know that means you love me so much! Thank you...with you here..." Frisk giggled almost childishly, "You fill me with determination."

Sans shook hard as he sobbed. He hated that he was grateful for Frisk... that he was grateful the ability to reset might finally go away forever. But did Frisk have to die? Did they have to leave him? Leave Toriel? 

"This is a nightmare! Reset Frisk! Reset..." Sans sobbed, "I'd gladly live this life again and again! Just d-don't-"

"Sans," Frisk whispered gently, "I can't make another mistake like I did with Chara. I can't... give in and reset... do things differently just to see what would happen. Sans... I can't mess up like that again-"

"Frisk! That won't matter! Frisk! j-just...just..."

"Olive you Sans..." Frisk soothed, as Sans laid them gently on the bed, and remained clinging and sobbing to them. "Olive you very much."

Weakly, more to please Frisk than anything else, Sans mustered up a weak laugh.

"Frisk."

"Sans... it must come to an end."

For several long moments they remained in silence, and Sans couldn't bring himself to look at Frisk's face. His mind raced going over their words. The kid...his child was right. Life was supposed to be fleeting, this was a natural occurrence in life... But if he looked at Frisk's brave determined face, Sans was sure he's storm out of the room. All with the hope that if he left, Frisk would reset.

"Sans...will you remember me in a week?" Frisk whispered, cutting through Sans' inner turmoil.

"Yes! Y-yes of course..." Sans choked, voice weak from all the crying.

"In a month?"

"Y-yes!"

"A year?"

"I'll remember you for one hundred years Frisk! A million! I'll never forget you!" Sans assured.

"Knock knock..."

Sans was momentarily shocked into silence, and his tears slowed, "W...what?"

"Knock knock..." Frisk whispered again.

Sans swallowed.

"Who's there?"

Frisk smiled, "I thought you said you'd remember me!"

Sans pulled away from Frisk to, at last, look at them and gently cupped their face. He held it in their hands, determined to remember Frisk's face in these final moments. A slow grin spread to his face, and he began to laugh. Even as fresh tears clouded his vision, he couldn't stop the laughter that came up.

Frisk smiled, their face old and feeble, but filled with determination. And then, quietly...they were gone. And then it was truly..."the end."

 

 

 

 

 

**The End**

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
